A normal day in the life of a flat

It was a wonderful day in the outskirts of Berlin. Some of the flats were empty, their residents on vacation. Their left-behind possessions used the free time to enjoy their lives.

A kettlebell was trying to learn the piano. It had trouble doing so. Its body was too large and inflexible. It always hit a few keys too many. Even jumping upside down, the handle was too large to only hit one key at a time. But the kettlebell didn't give up. A pair of sneakers, once best friends with the kettlebell had lost their patience and left the flat to go for a run. Next to the piano, tho jukeboxes were fighting. Their speakers had forgotten why they didn't just dump them and craved the simplicity of a flexible bluetooth relationship. Despite all this noise, the bed was still sleeping.

The bookshelf had started a book club. Some philosophical books debated the nature of reality. They had a hard time to convince the bible of their naturalistic explanations. The fantasy books were roleplaying. Right now, Rhythm of War was holding a monologue that captured everyone's attention. It had been talking for 70 hours. In the corner of the bookshelf a bunch of gossip magazines were chatting about things no-one really cared about. A bit offside was an ebook. It had been lethargic for a long time and used the free time to recharge.

In another corner of the room a pack of backpacks were hunting for jute bags, old parcel, and groceries. The cleaning supplies were watching, grossed out. They knew it would be them that had to clean up the mess later.

Just a short while ago, a robe had had an epileptic fit. Now it was under ward, by the best piece of furniture available for the job. It was crammed into the desk drawer, with all kinds of stationary and dongles. The dongles were depressed. Their only reason of existence was the greed of an enormous corporation, forced to grow endlessly by their shareholders. They knew they made everybody's life worse and wished to live in a time where they could have been born as a useful piece of equipment. Even charger cables or the wires in a graphics card had a better life. On top of the desk lay a journal, unsuccessfully trying to remember what it wanted to do. It knew it had jotted it down somewhere.

On the balcony, some t-shirts hung out on a drying rack and enjoyed the warming light of the evening sun. The drying rack belonged to someone German; they had put a towel over it to reserve their spot. In a flowerpot some plants planned to plant bombs in an imminent paper plant before it learned to travel time.

In the forest down the street a fox sat on a tree stump and observed the flat through a telescope. What he saw made him question whether he really wanted to immerse himself in the city life. Right now, he was pleased to live in nature.